Forgotten
by Evil Chococat
Summary: What will Roy do when Riza loses her memory? SOME SPOILERS UP TO CH.60 OF MANGA! Please review!
1. The beginning

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Disclaimer time!!! I do not own FMA or anthing associated with it. Abstolutely zilch. But I do hope you enjoy the fanfic!!!  
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The buttons beeped as he pressed the keypad, dialling the number he knew so well. The regular dull ring played back to him, making his heart jump and speed in anticipation. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself. It was ridiculous, he thought, he never usually got nervous about phoning a woman. But somehow with her it was different. It was always different.

The phone on the other end clicked and rattled as it was picked up. He could hear a slight whining of a dog in the background and couldn't help but smile.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Riza."

"Oh, Colonel." Riza replied in slight surprise. "Hush, Hayate." She muttered as the dog began to bark.

Roy laughed. "Haven't I told you before to not call me 'colonel' once work is over?"

"Hmm." She murmured. She never forgot her duties, even when she was supposedly _off _duty. If there was one thing Riza took seriously, then it was her job. "Isn't it dangerous to be calling me up? Someone could be tapping this line."

"I'll take that chance." Roy brushed the question off lightly, feeling a flicker of annoyance at King Bradley. Damn that man, separating him from his supporters, his friends, his loved ones. Roy swore that he would make him hurt as much as he did.

"Either way…" Riza trailed off, interrupting his train of vengeance thinking. "I don't you want to get into anymore trouble."

Roy's heart beat that little bit faster. He glowed in the words of her concern, however trivial they may seem. "What about you?"

"I'm not the one phoning you. I could blame you entirely and get away clean." She stated matter-of-factly.

"Hey," he winced, "that's not fair."

"So what did you call me about?"

He sighed. "Do you have to be so cold? Especially after-"

She cut him off hurriedly, failing to hide the embarrassment in her voice. "What did you call me about, Colonel Mustang?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his black hair. "I just…wanted to see how you were. That's all."

There was a pause. Hayate barked in the background. Roy shifted his feet uncomfortably, waiting.

"I'm fine." She finally said, her voice low and quiet. "What about you?"

"Yeah." Roy nodded his head and suddenly spotted himself in the mirror. He grimaced at his appearance. His shirt was crinkled. He hadn't shaved in days. His black hair was ruffled. Large bags hung under his eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep. "Just great." He lied.

_Better that she doesn't know. I don't want to worry her. _

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_"That's good." She whispered. "Real good."

Roy clenched his hand tightly, digging his fingernails into the skin. He leant against the wall behind him. He ruffled his hair with his hand again, feeling the weight of the stress piling on top of him as the silence grew, squashing him down and making him want to scream. It was as through they were in two separate boats, sailing together, attached by a red string of fate. But then King Bradley came along with an even bigger boat and cut them apart, causing them to drift away from each other, their words to one another lost across the vast ocean of sea.

He burst, "Riza, I-"

"Colonel, I'm sorry." She interrupted him again. Yet this time her voice was filled with fear. Fear at what he might say on this supposedly tapped line? He didn't know. He didn't know anything any more. "I have to go. Hayate is waiting for his walk."

Roy hung his head, feeling the weight shift down on him more. "Sure." He replied, tiredness in his voice.

"Goodbye, Colonel Mustang."

"Goodbye, Riza."

He heard the phone click, and the line went dead.


	2. An unwanted invitation

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or anything associated with it!!!!!!!!!!! This story is pretty much on-going although (laugh) I'm not really sure where it is going. Randomness rulz! XDDD**

Roy Mustang walked down the corridor of the Central Military HQ, his black shoes tapping smartly against the newly waxed floor. The morning sunlight shone through the gleaming windows, sending cheerful rays across the freshly painted white walls and bulletin boards loudly announcing military dates for target practice, uniform inspection and dorm vacancies.

"Good morning, Colonel Mustang." A soldier saluted him as he walked past.

"Good morning." He replied smartly. Roy felt a shimmer of confidence. After his brief phone call with Riza his resolve to become Fuhrer had strengthened.

'_I will become Fuhrer.' _He told himself as he sat in the lonely, dark hallway with the phone pressed against his ear and the dull drone echoing in his ear. '_If only to get my Queen back to me.'_

A quick shower and shave later, Roy began to formulate his next move. It would take some time, and it was risky, but he was willing to start putting it into action.

More soldiers greeted him as he reached his office and turned the handle, pushing the large, brown wooden door open. His black eyes flickered over his subordinates who obediently jumped to their feet.

"Good morning, Colonel Mustang!" They said in perfect unison, their salute executed simultaneously and with absolute accuracy. He noticed with distaste how perfect his newly assigned subordinates were. Their pressed uniform, their brushed hair, their brightly polished shoes. They were like clones; the perfect colonial servants. Despite that, Roy knew that they were still wet behind the ears. They had yet to see a real battle. He bitterly wondered how long they would have lasted in Ishbal.

"Good morning." He replied coldly and sat behind his desk. He noticed the paperwork and groaned, old habits taking over.

"Colonel Mustang? Is there something wrong?" The newly appointed First Lieutenant asked him. Roy forgot his name. He forgot all their names.

He scowled and shook his head as he reached for a pen to begin signing. "No. It's nothing." He grabbed the first document at the top of the pile and began to read it.

His fingers suddenly crinkled the edge of the paper. His heart stammered. His stomach knotted, threatening to get rid of the breakfast he had eaten that morning. The frightful taste of adrenalin reached the back of his throat.

"What…" Roy gasped. "What is this?!" He shouted and slammed the letter down, bolting upright from his chair.

The subordinates turned ashen faced. They rose from their desks, catching the mood of urgency. They shot scared glances at one another, wondering if this sudden change of behaviour was their fault.

"C-Colonel Mustang? What's wrong?" The First Lieutenant asked nervously, approaching him slowly.

"Where did you get this?!" Roy shouted at him.

He flinched, not knowing how to handle the situation. Military training did not involve restraining your superiors. "I-It was on your desk this morning, s-s-sir."

"Did you see anyone leaving this room?!"

"No, no, sir. P-Please, calm down." The pale man gestured desperately with his hands.

Roy glared at him and opened his mouth to continue his shouting tirade.

The door slammed open. "Colonel Mustang!"

"Go away!" Roy shouted angrily at the intruder.

"Colonel Mustang!"

He turned towards the doorway. "Go awa-" He stopped, the words catching in his throat. "Major Armstrong."

The blonde, muscular soldier saluted the colonel, his own face ashen and filled with shock. "Colonel Mustang, I apologize for barging in here."

Roy noticed a crumpled white letter in the major's strong fist. "You received the notice too?"

"Yes, sir."

Roy stared at him, his hands pressed hard against the wooden table. The trembling First Lieutenant looked back and forth between the two men. Suddenly, Roy sighed and dropped into his chair, his energy draining from him. He rubbed his forehead with a trembling, sweaty hand.

"I suppose it isn't a prank then. If you received a notice as well, Major." His voice broke, the waves of grief threatening to engulf him.

"Colonel." Major Armstrong took a step forward, then stopped, remembering his place.

Roy's hand slowly curled into a trembling fist. The waves of sadness simmered and boiled, forming froths of searing, erupting lava. He began to shake with anger, clenching his teeth.

"_Dammit!" _He slammed his fist hard against the table, causing everyone in the room to jump. Roy glared at the crumpled letter on the desk.

'_Colonel Mustang, we regret to inform you of the death of your esteemed colleague, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye…'_

He closed his eyes painfully, willing the tears to stay down, trying to compose himself.

"Dammit." He choked and crumpled the letter up in his hand.


	3. Ashes to ashes

**Disclaimer, disclaimer, gotta remember the disclaimer: I don't own FMA. There, done!!! **

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The funeral had been simple. Quick. It was labelled as murder. First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye had been stabbed several times, her purse stolen, and was abandoned to bleed to death in a deserted alleyway in the cold, dark, silent night. Black Hayate had run away, barking hysterically. The annoyed occupants of the surrounding apartments had gone out to see what was happening but it was too late. Riza had died alone.

The murderer was hurriedly tracked down and, ignoring his pleas of innocence, pushed through a speedy trial and thrown in front of the firing squad. Case closed.

Roy stood in the military graveyard alone. The soldiers had quickly left, eager to leave a place which reeked of death and which they knew, all too soon, would be their eternal home. They had entered those iron wrought graveyard gates one too many times that year.

A gentle breeze sent the withering brown autumn leaves scattering across the grey pavement and onto the hard, dry grass. A couple walked past the lined gravestones, holding bouquets of flowers. They spotted the lone figure swathed in black and hurried onwards to their destination, hushing their voices as though they feared to rouse the dead, the statue-like person, or both.

Roy didn't notice them; even if they were ghosts he wouldn't have noticed them. His mind was too full of the relentless onslaught of questions as he stood staring at the grey slab with Riza's name engraved upon it. The boring stone hardly did any justice to her – it could not replicate her beauty, her intelligence, her passions and hates, her warmth or her heart. It was just a cold, plain slab erected upright - exactly the same to the others surrounding him. Nothing to mark it out, nothing to show a lost red rose in a field of daisies.

_Why hadn't Riza shot the attacker?_ Roy questioned himself, agonisingly clawing for answers in the deep abyss of grief and loss. _ She always kept a gun on her, and Hayate was a well trained dog. He would have attacked the murderer. _

_Why didn't the people who lived in the buildings hear any resistance? No screams, no shouts, nothing. She would have put up a fight!_

_Why did the court ignore the accused's statement? He had an alibi that night. There was nothing to link the man to the crime scene; there were no witnesses. It was a pitch black night. _

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_For Roy, it most definitely was not case closed. It was still fully open. He was determined to find out the truth behind Riza's death, even if it meant his leaving the military and abandoning his goal to become Fuhrer.

Perhaps he was in denial. Indeed, a part of him refused to believe that Riza was dead. It was…too sudden, too suspicious a death. The circumstances surrounding everything made it too suspicious. The sudden change of roles within the military, with Riza so close to Fuhrer. The orders for them to no longer communicate. It seemed likely, very likely, that King Bradley had ordered the death of Riza knowing how much it would shake Roy up and possibly put him back in his place. The old game of using fear to control. It was how it always was with Bradley; those who are feared have the ultimate power.

If Riza was alive, Roy would find her. If she was dead, he would discover the truth. He did not believe that the accused man was the criminal. He did not have the eyes of a murderer; only the eyes of the innocent wrongly accused. He would not, ever, admit defeat and give in to Bradley.

A part of him wished that he had been able to see Havoc, Fuery, Breda and Falman. It had been quietly arranged (no doubt by those higher up) that the five of them would not see each other, much less talk, adding to Roy's suspicions.

A drop fell from the darkened sky. Roy lifted his head and scowled at the black clouds. Riza's funeral should have been filled with sunshine, not rain. Either that or it reflected his mood - he almost fancied it was an omen from God, saying that Riza wasn't really buried otherwise there _would_ be sunshine. But despite that he didn't believe in unprovable concepts like God.

The cold rain splashed against his face and rolled down his cheek, making tracks of the tears which Roy had refused to let fall.

'_I will not grieve.' _He promised himself. '_Until I find her.'_

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_And with that, he turned away from the grey gravestone and left the graveyard.


	4. Discovery

**Disclaimer: I do not own FMA!**

OMG, I was so surprised when I opened my email account - so many hits and reviews!!! I was so surprised. This fanfic has been pu less than 24 hours and so many people read itt. It's amazing!!! (little naive person here...) Thank you so much for reading and reviewing (though it's probably due to the huge popularity of FMA as well, lol). But I am so happy right now sings (Yeah, I'm so easy to please. Ahahahahaha).  


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The car trundled along the street, spewing out thick black smoke in its wake. It wheezed as it painstakingly tried to get the occupier to the desired location. The occupants of the surrounding houses peered out of the windows in slight annoyance as the vehicle spluttered down the usually silent street and disturbed their lazy Sunday afternoon. The driver tried to vain to shout encouragement at the car.

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**"Come on, come on! Don't die on me now!"

The car heeded the words and pushed onwards, rolling to a complete crawl.

"Come _on! _You stupid piece of junk!"

The car began to splutter and died, giving up on the driver after those final words of insult.

"No! Dammit!" The steering wheel was slapped noisily. The driver continued to mutter obscenities under his breath. "Where the hell am I now?"

He scanned the area through the front window. He frowned, the seeds of recognition blooming as his eyes flickered past the grey buildings, the shining brass nameplates gleaming on the front of each house.

His frown deepened but he let out a sarcastic chuckle as he noted the house he was parked next to.

"Oh well." He muttered, partly in amusement at the irony and partly in annoyance. "I guess I'd better see if there's still a serviceable phone in that house."

The door opened with a resounding click. He stepped out into the street and slammed the door violently behind him, shaking his head and still cursing the dead vehicle. He pushed open the dark gate of the house and made his way up the too familiar walkway to the front door of the Hawkeye mansion.

"Now," Roy murmured, eyeing up the impenetrable house of his past. "How to get in?"

He walked around the side of the building, vaguely remembering Riza telling him that she kept a window on one side unlocked in case she lost the key. There were no fears of burglaries in this area – it was very well protected. Roy smiled sadly as he remembered how reluctant Riza was to sell the house, but how reluctant she was to live in it as well. In the end she had left it, deciding to let the future decide its course.

"It's a good thing for me, either way." Roy chuckled as he found the unlocked window and slid it open.

He stepped in, coughing at the stink of dust and neglect. The fresh air blew in the room and stirred up the contents, many of which were covered with greying sheets. A book lying on the floor ruffled its pages. Roy bent to pick it up, scanned over the familiar title with disinterest, and place it on a covered table.

He shivered, sensing the numerous ghosts haunting the house. Sounds of the past echoed throughout the building as he tried to ignore them. He walked down the hallway, thinking hard to distract himself from the tiniest detail of remembrance. '_Phone, phone. Where did they keep the phone?' _

He reached the staircase and rested a hand on it, feeling the dust and the coldness of the mahogany wood. His head was pounding. Must be all the dust. He coughed slightly, shook his head and walked into another room to continue his search.

A sudden crash made him stop. Thoughts flashed through his head – was it an intruder? He had forgotten to close the window…maybe someone had broken in? Was someone staying here, playing house in a house they did not own? Anger simmered in him at the thought of Riza's childhood home being used by a hobo. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his alchemical gloves.

Another crash made him step into a dark corner as he tugged the white cloth over his hand. The second crash had been closer than the first. Was the intruder heading this way? The idea of an intruder made Roy almost growl with anger but he held it in. He would never allow someone else to live in his Riza's house! The very idea of it set his teeth on edge.

He heard footsteps coming from down the hallway. He narrowed his eyes, squinting through the dry dusty air to catch a glimpse of the person. The moment the person came into view, Roy would strike him down.

The footsteps were light, almost hesitant. A shadow played across the carpeted floor and Roy could see that they were holding a sort of weapon. A dangerous person then. Possibly delusional. He regretted the idea of beating this person up but if he posed a threat…Roy pushed himself further into the corner and waited for the intruder to enter the room. He heard shallow breathing, a slight pause in footsteps as they stood in the hallway, possibly looking for him.

A foot entered the threshold and Roy jumped out, ignoring the startled screech as the intruder was pushed to the floor and the weapon knocked from their hand and dragged them to the floor.

The intruder screamed and writhed below Roy, waving their arms madly in order to get them free. Unable to create a spark, he grabbed the thrashing wrists and pinned them to the ground, using his weight to hold the person to the floor.

"Get off of me! You asshole! Get off of me!" 

He ignored the furious protests of the intruder and shouted. "Who are you and what are you doing-"

He gagged on his words and stared in shock at the person beneath him.

Riza Hawkeye stared back at him in utter bewilderment.

"Riza…" Roy gasped, tears of relief gushing to his eyes. "Riza! You're safe! I knew you would be!" He grabbed her in a hug and buried his face in her silky hair, breathing in her scent. "Thank God you're safe, Riza! Thank God!" He clutched her closer.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing, you freak?!" She hit him with a free wrist. "Get off of me!"

"Oh! Right. Sorry, sorry." He obediently got up and helped Riza up all the while grinning like a cheshire cat and teary with relief. He waved his hands in disbelief. "I just…can't believe it's you, Riza!"

She dusted herself off and glared at him. "Who the hell are you? And who is this Riza?"

A shock reverberated down his spine and rooted Roy to the spot. He stared at her. "W-what?"

"Who are you?!" Riza repeated in anguish, her eyes full of distrust and suspicion. "What are you doing in my house?!"

"Riza…?" He gaped. "What do you mean? Have you…" he trailed off as he looked her full in the face, realizing that she didn't recognize him at all. "Have you lost your memory?"


	5. Reunion

**Disclaimer: I no own FMA. **

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Riza Hawkeye, back from the dead, stood before Roy Mustang. All logic screamed that she should be dead, but he had known, just_ known, _that she was alive – somewhere out there. And now he had found her.

The tiniest problem was that she wasn't quite as he had remembered. Nor was it the reunion he had been hoping for.

The ghost of Riza narrowed her eyes at him and picked up her weapon threateningly. "Get out of my house."

"What-wait!" Roy raised his hands in self-defence and took a step back. '_What the hell is going on here? Is this Riza or someone else?' _His brain screamed for answers but came up with none.

"Get _out!" _She raised the weapon as if to hit him.

Roy shouted. "Stop, Elizabeth!"

She halted in her steps. Her eyes widened. "What…did you call me?" She asked softly.

Roy blinked rapidly, his hart beating against his ribcage frantically. It suddenly registered with him what he had just said - he hadn't meant to shout her real name, it had been some freak reflex. "Elizabeth," he said finally after catching his breath. "Elizabeth. Your name is Elizabeth – Riza is just…just a nickname." He swallowed.

"Elizabeth?" She said slowly. He nodded frantically; weary of the weapon still in her hand.

"I…That is…my name…"

Roy frowned as he watched Riza's slow reaction from confusion to understanding, and then to a sense of recognition. "You don't know your name?"

The weapon was dropped onto a nearby table – much to Roy's frantic relief – and her free hand rose to her forehead as if to rub away a headache. "I didn't. Before. But now…" She suddenly glanced up at him, her face eager. "Do you know me?"

"I guess you could say that." He couldn't help but suppress a smile, as distant memories clicked into play. His brain told him to stop the images and focus on the here and now, "How much do you remember?"

Riza rubbed her head again. "I only remember waking up in this house a few days ago. Apart from that- " she stopped and turned to him, anger flaring up once more. "Why am I telling you this anyway? For all I know you could have been the one who put me in here!"

Roy blinked and nodded. "A very good question, and no, I'm not the one who put you in here. I was just…passing by. Really." He added quickly as she gave him a look of sarcastic disbelief. "My car broke down outside and I thought I could use the phone." 

"By breaking into someone else's house?" She folded her arms.

"Yes – wait, no!" He said, his head whirling with confusion. "I know this house, I stayed here once and I know the people who live here."

"And who might they be?" 

"You." He said quietly. Riza caught the seriousness of his voice and lowered her arms gently. "And your father," Roy continued, beginning to pace the room. "Ri-Elizabeth, we're friends. Old friends. We've been together for years. I was told that you…" he stopped, sadness and relief enveloping him in one huge gulp.

She watched with slight sympathy and asked gently. "Told what?"

His voice choked. "That you were dead."

"Dead?!" she shouted in alarm. "Who said that?!"

"The military. King," his eyes narrowed in sudden anguish and he clenched his teeth in anger. "That damned King Bradley."

"King Bradley?" She questioned in confusion. He lifted his head, his anger abating slightly. _'She really has forgotten everything.' _

He tried to brush it off. "It doesn't matter. What we have to do now is figure out-"

"Wait, no, it _does _matter." She stepped forward. "Who is this Bradley? Who are you? What's your name? This," she rose her arms and rested them on her shaking head, tears shining in her eyes, "this is too much! What you're talking about…I don't understand any of it. I don't…I don't remember!" She hung her head in sadness and confusion and gave a sob. She leaned against a wall and slid down, her body giving way to exhaustion and confusion.

Roy breathed out a slow sigh, feeling the same level of emotion. He walked forward slowly and kneeled in front of her. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I shouldn't have mentioned it. But we still have to decide what's going to happen next."

"'What's going to happen next'?" She echoed and scowled at him. "You're getting out of my house, for starters."

He lifted his hands in an attempt to keep the peace. "Fine, fine, I'll leave the house, but I'm not leaving you behind." He stopped her from interrupting him. "I want to make sure that you're safe. Elizabeth, I've been thinking that you're dead – you can't expect me to just leave you here. What if someone else breaks in and attacks you?"

"You think that someone will attack me?" Her voice was quiet and scared.

"Possibly. The military are dangerous people, I can't hide that from you." Roy said gently but frankly.

She looked up at him with wide terrified eyes.

A sudden thump echoed around the room.

They both jumped. Riza shouted out loud in alarm and Roy spun around, spreading his arms wide to protect her from the mysterious attacker. Out of the corner of his eye in the gloomy room he saw a book tilt on its spine and land with a resounding thunk on the floor. It had fallen from the bookcase.

He breathed out a slow sigh of relief. He felt fingers grip his arms and he started in surprise.

"Sorry." He heard Riza say. "Sorry." He turned his head slightly and saw slow crystal tears run down her cheeks. She leaned her head against his back and cried softly.

Roy swallowed thickly and nodded slowly. "It's all right. Just let it out. I'll be here."

'_I'll always be here.' _

As Riza cried behind him, her fingers digging into his arms, Roy tried to sort through the debris of his own mind. She was alive. She was safe. She was beside him. That was all that mattered right now.


	6. Home sweet home

**Disclaimer: FMA is not my property. Period. **

**This chapter is pretty short, actually. I have no…real…excuse…I'll do a longer one next!!!! Really!  
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**It had taken a while, but Roy had finally convinced Riza that she should go with him to his apartment. He had phoned up a taxi, pushed the car down the Hawkeye drive and now they were waiting outside of the house patiently for the taxi to appear.

"Mr. Mustang-"

Roy interrupted her with a flash of a dazzling white smile. "Please, call me Roy." 

She blinked at him, but went along with his request. "Roy, I understand that you're concerned with my safety but isn't this…" she gestured at the black hat with a green feather on her head, the brown scarf wrapped around her neck and the oversized black sunglasses, "just making me more suspicious?"

"Not at all!" He replied cheerfully, beginning to check off a list of reasons why she should wear the ridiculous accessories. "For one, it's cold so it'll explain the hat and scarf, and two, you have a bad cold so you have to wear the sunglasses to keep the wind out of them, as well as backing up the scarf and hat. In case anyone asks questions, you know." He hummed cheerfully to himself, feeling quite content, and also pleased with himself at finding the ridiculous garments in the Hawkeye house.

She stared at him in disbelief.

"Ah! Here it is!" He waved frantically at the approaching vehicle, a huge grin on his face.

"Roy?"

"Yeah?" He lowered his arms as the car slowed down.

"Why are you so happy?"

"Well," he said slowly, caught off guard. "I guess that I'm happy because…" he opened the door of the taxi, "I found you." He smiled brightly at her.

Riza blinked behind her sunglasses and couldn't stop a pink blush forming on her cheeks. '_Wait, why am I blushing?' _She thought frantically. '_I don't know anything about the guy!' _But despite her convincing argument she couldn't help but feel that the scarf was stifling her.

"Riza? Shall we go?" Roy asked her, holding a hand out to her.

"Yeah." She stepped forward, ignoring the hand but trying to hide her embarrassment as she climbed into the taxi. Roy climbed in after her and shut the door. As he gave directions to the driver, Riza shifted on her seat uncomfortably and stared out of the window and stayed there for the entire journey, wondering why she was so embarrassed.


	7. A question of truth

**Disclaimer: Je n'ai aucun droit à FMA. Je ne suis pas le créateur. - I have no rights to FMA. I am not the creator (hey, a little variation. Thank you, Babelfish!).**

**As promised, this chapter is longer!!!**

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Roy walked along the many bookcases holding medical books in the great Central Library. He rang his finger across the titles, '_Orthomolecular medicine: A journal of the human brain','__Fibromyalgia: Simple Relief Through Movement_**_.'_**

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_**Useless, useless, useless…and all on topics Roy didn't have a clue about. He muttered curses to himself and continued to search the many volumes.

"A-_ha!" _He whispered in the stillness of the library and snatched up a book entitled, '_Memory and Amnesia: An Introduction.'_

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_**He flicked through the many pages until finally finding a table of diagnosis.

_'Traumatic amnesia? No, she doesn't have memories after the event either. She doesn't drink either, so it's not alcoholism, and she eats enough so it's not malnutrition either. Not dissociate as she can't remember beforehand…not lacunar…'_

He sighed in frustration at the mounting negatives and turned the page. Riza's type of amnesia must be an extreme case if so many stated that there was still some level of memory beforehand. It only made the search for answers more complicated and ultimately more annoying. He hadn't pressed her for answers, so maybe he himself shouldn't really be diagnosing the problems - but it seemed pretty obvious that she had no idea about her life before she appeared at the house, and it was start to actually know _what _was wrong with her. '_You can't find a cure until you find the problem_,' he thought.

But at least the most complicated and annoying 'problem' was over. Riza was safe at his apartment, accompanied by a delighted Black Hayate. Roy congratulated himself yet again with convincing Riza to stay at his apartment. Who knew when Bradley, or any of the Homunculi, came to finish the job? It would have been too suspicious for her to suddenly appear alive and well, out of the blue. They didn't know Bradley's plan, his motive, his ultimate aim. If Bradley knew that Roy had found her it make Roy appear even more suspicious –not only in Bradley's eyes but also in the rest of the military's.

With Riza's memory of being in the military non-existent as well…she would be in too much danger if the military were alerted to her presence. She would be too easy a target, or tool to use against him if they chose to. For now, Roy wanted to keep her away from any 'influential' people in the military and give her time to decide her own future. If she never regained her memory, and ultimately never returned to the military, then so be it. He would protect her, and keep her in quiet hiding, until the day he became Fuhrer and exposed the lies of Bradley.

He felt a stinging in his palm and looked down in surprise. He hadn't realized that he had been digging his fingernails in. Spots of blood dotted his palm and he brushed it clean with a white tissue impatiently. Roy turned back to the book.

'_Global amnesia:' _the book stated in thick black letters,_ 'A state of total memory loss. It is often caused by a traumatic effect and is a way of defence for the brain.'_

That was it! Riza's condition was global amnesia. It was the only type which fitted the symptoms. Total memory loss, she couldn't recall anything, and a traumatic effect, that would have been the attack. It all fitted, like the final piece in a jigsaw!

Elated with his success, Roy slid the volume back onto the shelf and gathered his cloak. He glanced at the clock and winced at the amount of time taken to find that minute answer. He strolled towards the front door and began to push open the glass door, preparing himself for the sudden gust of coldness, only to be interrupted by a shout of, "Colonel Mustang!"

Roy groaned inwardly to himself. He didn't have time for this. He had to get back to Riza.

"Colonel Mustang!"

"Yes, Major Armstrong?" He sighed deeply and turned to face the Strong Arm alchemist who was strolling quickly towards him.

"Will you two be _quiet? _This is a library!" The crinkled librarian hissed at the two soldiers.

"Oh, my apologies." Major Armstrong murmured.

Roy bent his head apologetically towards the woman. She tutted at them and walked away shaking her head as Roy pushed against the door, "Perhaps we had better talk outside, Major."

"Yes."

The autumn wind bit at their hands and faces, stealing the warmth greedily to soothe itself. They walked down the grey steps slowly, the silver moonlight illuminating the path. It was a quiet night. The occasional soldier strolled past and saluted the two men and they returned the gesture mutely. Neither of them had spoken a word since leaving the looming building of the dark Central Library.

Roy was dreading the inevitable topic that would eventually rise. He knew that Armstrong had deliberately avoided the topic and he was grateful for that – it was better to be ignored rather than to have to deal with over sympathisers. The less people fussed over him about the 'death', the less attention drawn to him.

Nevertheless, he understood that some people would want to talk about it and Armstrong was one of those people; he was too sensitive, too good a man to let this type of situation pass without some friendly word. Although Roy appreciated it, he knew that Armstrong would be wasting his breath.

He wondered briefly if he should fill the Major in on what had happened, then decided against it. Although he knew the pain the Major was going through, he also thought that the less people who knew the better. Certain things had to be withheld, and this was one of them.

At last they reached the bottom of the stairs, albeit in silence. The greying stone figures of lions bared their fangs at the two men as they stood side by side, the only sound being the occasional honk of a passing car or the shouts of orders between soldiers.

Roy could feel that time was pressing on. He adjusted the collar of his jacket and nodded, "Well, good night, Major."

"Colonel Mustang," Armstrong said causing him to stop. "I was wondering how you were." Under the clearness of the moonlight his embarrassment was apparent. "As a friend."

Roy patted his friends arm. "I'm good, Major. Never better." 

Armstrong nodded sadly. "An unfortunate incident-"

"Major." The colonel interjected and gave him a cool look. The silence settled again. "What's past is past." 

There was a flicker of surprise in the Major's face, then a look of understanding, despite the fact that Roy knew he was understanding the wrong thing. He nodded again, turning away. "Yes, Colonel. I understand."

"Good night, Major." 

"Good night, Colonel."

Roy began to walk away then involuntarily stopped. He took a deep breath. "Major."

Armstrong looked up. "Yes, Colonel?"

"There is always a question of truth and of what to believe." He stated before walking away, leaving behind a soldier filled with confusion.


	8. Beware of the dog

**Disclaimers: Uhhhhh see previous chapters. **

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"Hey, Riza! I'm back!" Roy called, slamming the door behind him. A happy Hayate ran up to him and barked loudly. "Hey, buddy." He patted the dog.

He kicked off his shoes, trying to avoid the bounding, panting Hayate, and placed his coat onto the hook. "Riza?" He called again, wondering at the silence.

Hayate barked in reply and Roy chuckled. "Yeah, I know you're here."

Roy poked his head into the kitchen, "Riza?" The bathroom. "Riza?"

Fear suddenly gripped him and terrified thoughts crossed his mind. What if something had happened to her? Did someone kidnap her? Adrenalin seized him and bit his heart like a enraged viper striking to kill. What if someone saw them, the homunculi even, and waited until he left before breaking in? But there wasn't any mess – maybe they were discreet. Images of a terrified and confused Riza swept through his mind – her hands and feet bound, a gag over her mouth, her head bleeding…! Beads of sweat formed on his head as he was seized by panic and frantically began to search the apartment. Where was she? Had she disappeared again? _No! It couldn't be!_ Where was she? _Where was she?_

"Where are you?!" He shouted out loud in the hallway.

"Why are you shouting? I'm right here."

He spun around. "Riza!" He resisted the urge to grab her, reminding himself that he may cause more harm than good. Didn't want her to take him for a lecher. "Don't…" he panted, finally calming down. God, his heart was going a mile a minute. It felt as though it was going to jump right out of him. "Don't scare me like that." 

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What, did you think I disappeared again? I just fell asleep…"

He was used to the cold, cutting tone and couldn't help but smile at the familiarity of it. "Yeah. Something like that."

She chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere. I've nowhere to go, right?" She turned around and re-entered the living room. "You have some amazing books."

Roy couldn't suppress a chuckle at her calmness towards his mini heart-attack. He rubbed his forehead with his sleeve and followed her. "You weren't bored then?"

"No, not at all." She lifted a book she had been reading and sat down on the sofa. Hayate bounded up and curled up next to her. She giggled and rubbed his ears. "Your dog is adorable. Hayate, right?"

The dog pricked up his ears and gave a small bark in recognition of his name. She giggled again.

"Yeah, you named him." Roy smiled at the idyllic scene and leaned against the doorframe. The dusk light turned the room a soft, hazy pink highlighting Riza's hair and adding colour to the white room. She looked so beautiful. His heart once again filled with gratefulness and relief that she was there with him at that moment. He tried to say calmly, "He's your dog actually. I brought him here because I didn't want him to be taken to the pound."

Riza looked up at him in surprise. Her expression softened. "I do remember a dog. But I was shooting at him because of something…did he pee on a wall?" She questioned him innocently.

Roy snorted and tried to turn into a cough. "Er, yes. You did. Couple of rounds actually."

"You're kidding?" She looked horrified. "I shot a _dog? _With a _gun?"_

He nodded, shaking with silent laughter at the memory.

There was a slight pause. She immediately burst out laughing, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Okay, okay, okay, not funny, so not funny. But…" She composed herself, only to burst into fits of laughter again. Hayate barked at his owners' excitement and wagged his tail. Roy couldn't help but join in with the laughter.

A few minutes passed before they finally calmed down. Wiping tears from his face, Roy commented with a huge grin on his face, "I'm glad that you remembered something though." He stopped. "Wait...you remember something?"

Riza, still giggling to herself, smiled at him "Yeah. I wasn't too sure if it was my imagination or if I was actually remember-" She paused, turning her wonder-filled eyes at him as she slowly realized what had happened.

The shock Roy felt dissolved to elated triumph. "But that's great! It's great, Riza!" He cheered and ran to her, picking her up and swinging her around. "You remembered! It's great!"

Despite herself, Riza also laughed with delight. Grinning from ear to ear, Roy set her down again and hugged her tightly. "That's great." He repeated, relief washing over him. '_She's getting better. Slowly but surely...'_

"Urm, Roy?" Riza said in a strangely muffled voice. "Would you mind, um, letting me go?"

"Oh!" He suddenly let her go and stepped back. He laughed nervously, "Sorry!"

She laughed qiuetly, an equally big smile on her blushing face.

"Well!" Roy clapped his hands together and rubbed them. "This calls for a celebration! I'll make us something yummy!"

The still chuckling Riza got up from the chair, careful not to disturb the snoozing Hayate who was drooling over Roy's new sofa. "I'm going to take a shower." 

"Sure," Roy replied as he tied on a 'Kiss the chef or fry' (he had a weak sense of humour) apron.

She paused beside the bathroom door. "Um, Roy?"

"Yeah?"

She smiled at him. "Thank you. For everything."

He grinned back at her, holding an egg in his hand. "No problem." He waved his hand carelessly. "Take your time, 'kay?"

She nodded and shut the door.

Roy kept on waving his hand dreamily, still thinking of that wonderful smile and the romantic scene from earlier. He heard a crack and something wet and slippery slid down his hand and dripped to the floor. He looked to see what it was.

"Schmuck." He muttered, and scowled at the cracked egg.

Hayate growled in his sleep of Riza's and Roy's and endless steak.


	9. A picture of lies

**9: A picture of lies. **

**  
Blows a whistle to get attention Right, disclaimer: FMA is clearly not mine as it is a work of genius. I'm just doing the fanfic for the ever expanding Royai community. So I have no rights over the original work what so ever!**

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The gentle aroma of a well-cooked meal wafted into the white tile bathroom and mingled with the hot steam pouring from the water in the shower. Riza smiled in appreciation of the smell, her stomach gurgling in anticipation. How long ago had it been since she had last had a good cooked meal?

Oh, right. She couldn't remember.

Riza sighed in frustration at the lack of co-operation her brain was giving her. She rubbed the shampoo in her head as though to massage the answers out. It was getting to be a lot more annoying, especially since she was more aware of it now. When she had woken a few days ago on the cold, dusty, grey floor of the Hawkeye mansion it had never occurred to her to wonder how she got there – or what she had been doing beforehand. She readily accepted that she was where she was, and naturally assumed that the alien place was her home. She must not have been a very questionable person…or maybe she was. Who knew? She certainly didn't.

She sighed in annoyance again. The endless questions built up in her head, one after another like a stack of children's play blocks. Sometimes she felt as though she were a dam about to burst. Other times she managed to ignore it, choosing to continue walking this never-ending road of forgotten memories and lies.

There was one thing she certainly _did _know, and that was Roy Mustang. Although the images, the pictures, in her head were fuzzy, they were still there. He obviously cared for her. They must have shared something beyond friendship. It was a gut feeling, but a good gut feeling. Something about Roy made her feel warm inside. She trusted him – without fully understanding why.

The gentle stream of water ran down her hair, soothing out the shampoo froth and beating against her forehead. The water felt good against her skin. Riza felt safe wrapped under the soft liquid. She felt safe wherever Roy was. It had been strange being in the empty apartment alone. Despite Hayate being there she had felt…exposed. Vulnerable and trapped, especially since she couldn't leave. But when he came back it was all okay.

She blushed slightly thinking about Roy's excitement at her remembering. It had felt kind of...good being in his arms. A part of her grew more determined in trying to remember, if just to see his rbight smile once more.

Her head throbbed, aching from the strain of trying to recall the unreachable. She turned the tap off and stepped out of the shower, careful not to slip. The fluffy towel was wrapped securely around her wet body and she smoothed stray strands of dripping hair away from her eyes. One day, she was sure, she would remember everything.

The question was when.

The mirror was steamed up. She grabbed a spare towel and leaned over the sink to wipe it down. She pulled the towel away from her body and wrapped it around her hair before reaching down to pull on her clothes. An image flashed in the mirror causing her to frown in confusion. A strange pattern…a circle? She looked at the wall the mirror was reflecting and saw no image. Odd. Where was that picture coming from? She turned around and squinted at the mirror again, in the same position as when she first saw it.

Her eyes widened in shock and she screamed.

The door slammed open. Hayate barked agitatedly.

"Riza!" Roy cried in alarm, a spatula still in his hand and his apron covered in what looked like tomato ketchup. "Are you al-" He suddenly went as red as the ketchup. "I'm sorry!!!" He turned away hurriedly, whilst quietly thinking to himself, '_Well, her body hasn't changed. Wow!'_ His sensible subconscious immediately scolded him that now was not the time to reminiscence.

Riza also realized that she was naked and gathered a towel around her. She was shaking violently. "Roy…something has happened…to my back…"

Alarm bells rang in Roy's head. He was afraid something had happened to her. Those damn homunculi, whoever they were, if they had laid one finger on her…he tried to calm down, control his breathing. The rage subsided slightly. "What? What's happened?" He asked, trying to keep the alarm out of his voice. If he appeared worried then it may make her even more distressed, and he certainly didn't want that.

"My back," she shakily tugged at his arm and turned her back to him. "There's something on it."

He carefully examined her but came up with nothing unusual. "No, there's nothing wrong with it. It's fine."

"It's not fine!" She shouted through angry tears. "There's a weird picture on it!"

Roy blinked, finally understanding what she was on about. "Oh, the array? It's always been there."

She gulped, trying to calm her speeding heart down. That was certainly a shock. "It-it has?"

He nodded, almost sadly.

"Oh." She laughed meekly and covered her back with the towel. She rubbed her tears away with an unsteady hand. "Oh. Now I feel stupid."

He patted a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay." He made to go towards the door but her words stopped him.

"How did it get there?"

The weight of the truth hit him like a well-aimed sledgehammer. How could Roy explain that her father had preserved the secrets of flame alchemy on his own daughter's back? If she was already startled by the sight of the picture then the truth may send her into cardiac arrest.

"I don't know." He lied finally. "I suppose you liked the design at the time."

It appeared to make sense to Riza. "Right," she nodded. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. Gee, I'm not sure I want to remember having it done! It must have really hurt."

He laughed meekly in agreement with her, hating himself for lying and possibly postponing her recovery. "It must have done."

A silence fell. "Roy…" She took a deep breath, suddenly feeling nervous, as she reached down for her clothes again. She had to ask the question that had been relentlessly crossing her mind in the shower, "were you someone special to me?"

He kept his back turned from her. "Yeah. Maybe. I don't know. You're special to me but…" He faltered and shook his head, his lie eating away at his subconscious. He suddenly hated himself. "Anyway, yes. We were good friends. Dinner is ready. I'll, uh, wait outside."

He closed the door softly and swiftly before she could respond.


	10. A drink for two

**Attention, attention, disclaimer, disclaimer - FMA is not mine, I have no rights to it whatsoever, I am just writing a fanfic on these wonderful characters created by Hiromu Arakawa-sensei. **

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It had been strange for Riza to ask him that question.

"_Were you someone special to me?"_

She had always been special to him, no doubt about that, and he had always told her so. But if _he _were special to _her_…that was different story entirely. He didn't know the answer to that himself, mainly because she had never explicitly said anything. They had shared kisses, hugs and long nights like lovers do. The only difference between them and ordinary lovers was that they had to keep it secret because of their role in the military. Maybe that was why she had never told him anything about the way she felt. It would have been nice to hear those three sweet words from Riza's soft lips but…

Roy sighed and took a large gulp of his drink. _'She always did take her job seriously.'  
_

Major Armstrong sat beside him. "What is wrong, Colonel? You seem down."

"Just the usual tiredness, Major." Roy replied and motioned to the bartender for another drink. He obediently filled the glass, an action that Armstrong watched warily. He wondered briefly if it was safe for Roy to down another.

It had been Armstrong who had suggested they go to the bar. It had been a while, he had pointed out, since they had gone for a friendly drink. Reluctantly, Roy had agreed (but not before reassuring Riza that he would be back as soon as he could). Roy knew that he had to keep up an act of not knowing anything suspicious – that his life was supposedly the same old routine. But it didn't stop him from wanting to be back at the apartment with Riza.

It _had _been a while since he had been out. Events had occurred one after another, all snowballing into a one huge scenario and dramatically gaining speed. There hadn't been any real time to stop and think. Although the dingy, musky, cigarette filled bar was not Roy's first option it was still a place of escape.

The casual chatter of the bar members sounded normal; he almost grew angry at the pettiness of their complaints - a sore arm, a nagging wife - their problems were trivial. If they were in _his _shoes they would have suffered a nervous breakdown, committed suicide, or both. But they weren't him, and he wasn't them. This was his life and he would have to live as best as he could even if it meant that the only place in the world where he could really relax was in a vile, seedy little bar a ten minute walk away from the Central HQ.

"I hope that you're not overworking yourself." Armstrong said with some concern. In his eyes, the Colonel did look worn down and exhausted, and a part of him didn't seem to think that it was just the pressure of Bradley or the death of Riza. He may not be psychic, but something else was definitely going on. Every morning Roy went to work with a spring in his step but as the day progressed he became more agitated and glanced at the clock more frequently, resulting in him storming out of the room when it was time to leave.

Roy's subordinates had shared their concerns with each other earlier in the locker room and Armstrong had conveniently overheard them. After convincing them that it was in his best interest to know what was going on (his muscles, he thought proudly, always did the trick) he had gained the information he needed. Enough information to decide what to do and how to react towards Roy's recent behavior.

'_Odd behavior indeed,' _the Major thought as he drank.

Roy glanced at his watch and scraped his chair back loudly, much to the annoyance of the other bar members. "Not any more than usual, Major, I assure you. I'm still walking the same path." He shot him a meaningful look and a part of Armstrong was relieved when he grasped the double meaning. It was good to see that Roy hadn't given up all hope.

He knocked back the last of his drink and paid his due. "Now, Major, if you'll excuse me."

"Yes, sir." Major Armstrong saluted him and watched his friend step out of the bar and into the cold street. He abruptly turned to the bartender and handed him a fistful of money. "Keep the change."

The bartender gawped at the amount and began to protest, but Armstrong had already left to follow in the tracks of Roy.


	11. Shadow of a friend

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I did not create any of FMA or the characters involved. I cannot claim any rights to it in any way. **

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A slight drizzle of rain was falling on the cold autumn night as the two men, one hiding in the shadows, one apparently unaware of the other, walked along the street.

Ahead of him, Armstrong watched the hunched black figure of Roy Mustang hurry across the road. A car trundled past, its headlights screaming mutely in the darkness. Bowing his head against the rain and quickly scanning the road, Armstrong crossed the road in apparent innocence as Roy turned a corner. The Major noted the streets and acknowledged that Roy was heading back towards his apartment. Normally he would have driven, but the car was still in repair.

Major Armstrong had quietly argued with himself over the course of the evening whether or not this was the right action to take. Following Roy like a stalker was an extreme length he had not wanted to reach, but his superior's odd behaviour had led him to do this. He worried about Roy's safety – the interest Bradley had recently showed in him, the dangers of homunculi – as well as his health. Riza's death had obviously shocked him but he wasn't talking about it. That was almost as unhealthy as Roy screaming with grief and avoiding the HQ for several weeks.

As a result, to reassure himself and his consistent anxieties, Armstrong had decided on taking this extreme action of following Roy home that night, as well as possibly keeping watch.

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The streets were dimly lit. Black shadows stretched from beyond trees and crawled up the opposite building like unmoving sinister ghosts. Roy splashed through a puddle and felt the water soak his leg. He cursed lightly. The sound of another splash from behind him made him jump. He turned his head slightly so that he was looking behind him out of the corner of his eye. A looming figure strolled casually, apparently innocently, up the street. A follower? Had he been found out?

The sudden thought of Riza being cooped up in the empty apartment alone made him quicken his steps. Ignoring the growing dampness on his trousers as he splashed through yet another puddle, Roy kept check of the stranger. Still going in the same direction.

His suspicions rose. Deciding to test the follower he darted down an alleyway, a slight detour from home. The path was small and littered with rubbish and empty cardboard boxes. He navigated his feet down it as smoothly as he could. A quick glance over his shoulder. Damn, they were still following him. A normal person would have been unable to see the shadow enshrouded figure who was so expertly hidden, but Roy's military training had proven useful.

The fact that the stalker was being so professional in his task made Roy more aware of the dangers. His mind raced through possible future scenarios – were they specifically targeting him, or Riza? If they believed that Riza was dead, then it was more likely they were after him. Bradley entered his mind.

'_So, he wants to kill us all off, eh?_'

So be it, if that was the case. Roy wasn't going to go down without a fight.

Checking that his alchemical gloves were securely on his hand, Roy darted into another gloomy alleyway. He slipped into the shadows, undistinguishable in the lack of light. Sure enough, his foolish follower headed down the alley. Spotting that his victim had suddenly disappeared from sight, the person stopped and scanned the area desperately. He scratched his head and shifted his feet slightly as if to return to whence he came.

Roy launched himself from his hiding place and placed his hand, ready to spark, behind the person.

"Don't move." He said coldly. "Who are you?"

The unsuspecting person started. "Colonel! I-"

"Who sent you?" Roy interrupted, not wanting to hear excuses.

"Colonel Mustang, I can explain-"

"Answer the question!"

"It is I, Alex Louis Armstrong!" The Major finally declared frantically.

Roy frowned and lowered his hand. "Major? What on earth are you doing following me?"

Armstrong faced him and murmured apologies. "I am sorry, Colonel, but I was so worried about you…" He hung his head in shame.

"It doesn't matter, Major." Roy sighed in slight frustration. "I am perfectly fine. Now, please, go home."

"I hope you don't mind if I escort you, Colonel. Since you are half-way home already, and it is on my way."

He could see that the Major was adamant. However, allowing a member of the military so close to Riza made him uncertain. He preferred it if Armstrong didn't accompany him, but the logic was sound and if he did turn him away it would only make the Major more agitated. Another agitated person was not what he needed right now.

"Fine." He conceded defeat and walked briskly down the alleyway and onto the main street, his brain trying to find a quick solution to the problem he had landed himself in. The Major followed, oblivious to the problems his presence was presenting to Roy, and Riza.


	12. Three's a crowd

**Disclaimer disclaims my right to FMA and states that I do not own it. **

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Roy still hadn't come up with a diversion plan as they approached the apartment block.

'_If I tell him it's fine he'll follow anyway, and if I kept on protesting he'll become more suspicious…I can't tell him to fetch something either…he would have to return to the apartment eventually. But by then I could hide Riza! But what can I send him to get? All of the shops are closed this time of night, he knows I'm not so disorganized as to leave something important behind at the HQ and to send him as messenger boy would be disrespectful to his rank. But if he goes to the apartment he might see a light on and that would raise suspicions as well!'_

Cold beads of sweat ran down Roy's back. What was he to do? There didn't seem to be any suitable solution.

The apartment building loomed ahead of him in the black rain. An anxious eye slid up to his apartment window and he noted with relief that the lights were off. Riza must have gone to bed.

"Well, Major," Roy said cheerfully and approaching the front door hurriedly. "I wish you good night."

"Perhaps I should –" the persistent Arsmtrong began.

"Major." Roy said, not harshly. "It's late. You should head home."

The blonde sighed and nodded. "Very well, Colonel. Good night, sir."

"Good night, Major."

The two men saluted each other and went to their separate ways. Armstrong looked back quickly and frowned as Roy entered the foyer thankfully.

He darted towards the Colonel. "Sir! Your apartment is on the fifth level, towards the right, correct?"

Roy froze, cold dread seeping from his boots and crawling up his body. "Yes, it is."

Concern crossed Armstrong's face. "I believe an intruder is in your apartment, sir! I saw a light go on!" He rushed forward and went into the elevator. "Please wait here while I take care of it, Colonel!" He saluted his superior as the doors slid to a close.

"No! Wait! Major Arm-" Roy dashed to the elevator but the doors were firmly shut. He pressed the button frantically but the lift did not heed his call and continued its journey up. His eyes watched in horror as the circle of light went across each level.

_First, second_…

"Dammit!" He shouted, startling the already weary night staff. He flung the door to the staircase open and climbed up the gray concrete steps, two at a time.

'_Please let me make it in time!' _He prayed desperately, thick sweat forming on his forehead. He breathed heavily, adrenalin pumping through his body as he ran up the stairs.

He willed his lead-like legs forwards. _Third floor…fourth floor…_the plastic white numbers glared at him in mockery, laughing at his desperation and the fact that the world was crumbling away at his feet.

_Fifth!_

He burst through the door, almost knocking one of the staff over.

"Sorry!" He shouted as he ran down the corridor, panting heavily. The man simply replied by shaking an angry fist at him.

'_Gotta make it in time, gotta make it,' _he turned the corner and spotted his apartment.

His running slowed to a quickened stroll. Pain enveloped his stomach, making him almost bend over at the intensity of the stitch in his side. Dread filled him as he realized that the door had been busted open. The golden numbers on the white door twinkled in the light as he pushed the door slightly causing it to knock against the wall. Hayate bounded up to him and barked enthusiastically.

Roy ignored the dog and gently closed the door with a soft click. He turned the lock and slid his coat off on to the floor. The silence in the apartment was absolute, causing him to be filled with trepidation and dread at the upcoming explanation.

'_Will this night never end?'_

He dragged himself towards the living room, the weight of the world and the enormity of the situation sitting heavily on his shoulders. He had failed to protect Riza…he would have to make sure that Armstrong stayed silent…what could possibly happen next?

The scene which greeted Roy did not surprise him. Riza was sitting on the sofa, dressed in her pajamas, a book in her hands and a quilt over her shoulders. Armstrong stood perfectly still, his face ashen, staring at what he could only comprehend as being the ghost of Riza.

"Roy…" The 'ghost' said cautiously, slowly sliding off the sofa and approaching him for comfort. "This man…" She was trembling slightly as she gripped his hand as she thought of a possibility of a frantic escape.

Roy patted her arm reassuringly. "It's okay. He won't harm us." He turned to the shocked Major. "I believe I owe you an explanation. Riza," he smiled at her, "could you possibly make us some tea?"

She frowned at him but nodded softly. She called Hayate quietly and went to the kitchen. The pup obediently followed.

Armstrong finally choked out words. "She's…alive?"

Roy nodded. "I found her in her old house a few days ago."

The reality of the situation sunk into the Major and he sat heavily on the sofa, ignoring the puddle of water he was creating. He stared at Roy. "Why…why didn't you say anything? No," he shook his head immediately. "No, I understand why."

Roy pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. "I wanted to keep her safe."

"It was a wise decision." Armstrong agreed quickly. "To think that…" he rubbed his eyes as tiredness engulfed him. "To think that her death was…" He shoulders gave a violent shudder.

Roy looked away, embarrassed. He didn't know how to deal with crying men. He rose and paced the room slowly, waiting for his friend to stop.

Stop, he finally did. "I'm sorry." Armstrong apologized tearfully.

"No. It's fine. I must trust that you will keep the...situation quiet."

He looked up in surprise. "If Lieutenant Hawkeye is alive, wouldn't it be best for her to return to the military as quickly as possible?"

"Things are perhaps more complicated than you think, Major."

Riza stepped into the room, the tray in her hands rattling slightly as she set it on the coffee table. She handed a steaming cup to Roy, who accepted it gratefully.

She turned to Armstrong. "Do you prefer tea or coffee-" she trailed off and looked anxiously at Roy. "Armstrength?" She ventured weakly.

The Major frowned in confusion. Roy nodded encouragingly and smiled, "Armstrong."

"Yes, that's it!" She blushed furiously at her embarrassing mistake. "Sorry, sir."

"Lieutenant…" he ignored the initial question. "Have you…"

Roy quickly stepped in. "Riza, are there any biscuits in the cupboard? I'm starved."

She blinked but, deciding to trust Roy's suggestion and thinking that there was a legitimate explanation for her having to leave the room, nodded and entered the kitchen again. "I'll go check."

Roy smiled and sipped his tea. Armstrong watched her retreating back in surprise. "Colonel Mustang…Lieutenant Hawkeye can't possibly have-?"

He sighed. "Yes, Major. She has lost her memory."

Armstrong stared at him in horror. "Lost her memory?! But that can't be possible! She didn't react when I called her Lieutenant."

"That's because I told her about her involvement with the military." Roy explained. "She can remember some events, but they appear to be rather fuzzy, as you can see from when she guessed your name. Some things need confirmation."

"What could possibly have…"

"I don't know, Major." Roy set down his now empty cup. "I don't know what happened to her that night. If she remembers she hasn't said anything. For the time being, I am keeping her here. I want her to gain her memory fully before she returns to the military, if she chooses to do so."

His fellow soldier nodded appreciatively, "Absolutely, Colonel. Has she been…making progress then?"

"A little. I won't discourage any advice you're willing to give, Major, but I want no-one to know of this. And _that _is an order."

Armstrong narrowed his eyes slightly. "You don't need to give me an order for that, Colonel." He chuckled slightly, "I wondered what you meant at the library."

Roy was puzzled. "What?"

"You told me, 'There is always a question of truth and of what to believe.' I suppose this is what you were referring to?"

He nodded. "Yes. Partly."

"Well," Armstrong sighed and stood up. "In this situation, that statement is more true than ever."

"It would appear so." Roy replied as Riza returned with a plateful of biscuits. "It would appear so."


	13. A heavenly morning

**Disclaimer: Same old. FMA was not created by moi. **

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It was a Saturday and Roy had finally got a day off. He opened his onyx eyes lazily and was greeted by a sudden stream of sunshine bursting through the blinds. He shifted and groaned, not wanting to get up from his cosy spot underneath the sheets. He never knew that sleeping on the sofa could be so comfy. Maybe he would substitute it for his bed.

Bed…he wondered if Riza was warm enough in his room. It could get quite drafty, especially after a windy night like last night. With the howling wind and Armstrong's surprise appearance, Roy was amazed that he had gotten any sleep at all. It must have been two in the morning before the Major left them in peace and he assured a worried Riza that everything was okay.

'_I know he's a good man,' _she had said. '_But what if someone higher up orders the information from him?'_

'_He still wouldn't tell.'_ Roy had replied. '_He places his friends before duty.' _Unacceptable for a soldier, but that is often the way of the corrupt military.

In the corner of the room, Hayate bit eagerly on a doll causing it to squeak noisily in protest. The dog was relentless, chewing and slobbering over the victim.

"Hayate," Roy grumbled from under the sheets. "Shuddup."

The dog barked in reply but proceeded with chewing the doll. The continuous squeaks echoed around the room. Roy stuck his head under the pillow wondering again why on earth he had got that doll.

Then he remembered his chewed slippers and sighed. Better that Hayate beat up a plastic noisy thing rather than his shoes.

He wondered briefly what would happen today. Maybe they could all go out. But Riza would need to be disguised. The hat and scarf had mysteriously disappeared (Riza probably had someting to do with it). He had some hair dye left over from a fancy dress party. He entertained the idea of a brunette Riza and immediately preferred blonde.

The doll slipped from Hayate's bouncing paws and landed on the still daydreaming Roy. Filled with enthusiasm, Hayate pounced on top of Roy causing him to shout in alarm and jerk up.

The doll dropped to the floor with a thankful squeak. He grabbed the dog and lifted him up. "Jeez," he muttered. "You're such a hassle."

Hayate simply barked.

"What's going on?"

He barked again at the sound of Riza's voice and wriggled out of Roy's grip. He watched in amusement as the puppy bounded up to her, begging to be picked up, which she did.

"He woke me up with that ridiculous toy." Roy gestured at the forlorn doll.

She bent down and picked it up. Examining it, she remarked. "I don't remember it."

"No, I brought it." Roy looked up at her eagerly. "Is your memory getting clearer?"

"Seems so." She rubbed the dog's ears and placed him on the floor along with his toy. "I can remember some of my childhood and some of the military. Do you think I'll remember it all?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe one day. But," he warned, "don't go pushing yourself to remember things too quickly." 

She smiled. "I won't. It all comes to me naturally. It feels easier to remember things here rather than when I was back at the house. Maybe it's because you're here."

Roy's heart skipped a beat. A red flush crept up his neck. He rubbed at it. "Y-yeah, I guess so. Being with friends can help, I suppose."

"Friends?" Riza asked.

He was startled by the softness of her voice. "Yes. Friends."

Their eyes met. He had forgotten how intense her eyes could be. Such a deep amber. Memories of the emotions shown in those eyes came to him: sadness; hope; anger; impatience; love; passion. It was so easy to get lost in them. He could feel himself drowning in her eyes once more, like so many times before.

What occurred to him suddenly was that Riza wasn't looking away from him in embarrassment, as she might have done the previous day. She had been timid around him since arriving at the apartment. But now she seemed to looking at him with a similar level of…what? Passion? Love? The idea struck him as ridiculous. She had just said she could only remember her childhood and the military…but what part of the military?

He was the first to break the silent spell. Diverting his eyes nervosly he got up from the sofa and folded up the sheets. "So, what do you want for breakfast?"

Behind him, he heard Riza breathe out a low sigh. Relief? Impatience? Disappointment? He couldn't tell. "I was going to make some toast. You want some?"

"Sure."

He heard her head towards the kitchen. "Do you think Major Armstrong will visit today?" She called.

"I don't know." Roy replied, opening the blinds and squinting at the sudden rush of light. Maybe they could go to the park. "I don't think he would act in any way that make him seem suspicious."

"It was strange," she commented as Roy leaned against the doorway in the kitchen. "When I saw him my first thought was to run. He could have been someone dangerous, like you warned me about. But I…something stopped me." She slipped the toast into the toaster and turned it on. "I recognized his face and all of these situations struck me – memories. Even though my head was telling to get out of there, my legs wouldn't budge because another part said there was no need – I wasn't in any danger. Isn't that weird?"

"You must have trusted your memories more." Roy offered by way of explanation, pleased that she appeared to be recovering so quickly. If 'recover' was the right word for it. Either way, the pleasing feeling he felt whenever Riza commented that she recalled something was fulfilling. He hoped that it would become a regular occurence. "Gut instinct can be stronger than logic."

The toast popped back up, a crispy golden brown. She nodded as she buttered it.

Riza handed the plate to Roy which he accepted. They munched the toast in comfortable silence. Despite himself, he couldn't help but entertain the idea of every morning starting like this. Wishing each other good night and pulling the sheets comfortably around themselves, waking up in the morning in each other's arms, Riza's golden hair spilling across the pillows as the morning sunshine shone. Then eating breakfast together like this. It was a kind of paradise.

He suddenly realized that he was watching Riza with a stupid dreamy smile on his face. Not that she noticed, she was too wrapped up in her own thoughts.

"It's such a nice day, today!" Roy declared, half embarrassed. He opened a cupboard and pulled out two glasses to pour some milk. "I was thinking of going to the park."

"But aren't I supposed to stay hidden?" She asked in surprise.

"You've got me with you today." He grinned at her. "Nothing to worry about."

Her cheeks turned a slight shade of pink, which amused Roy slightly. "O-Oh, yeah." She frowned. "I won't have to wear that stupid hat again, will I?"

He laughed. "Have no fear! I have some hair dye somewhere that will do just fine!"

She looked so relieved that Roy almost found it insulting – he honestly thought that his choice of hats was okay.


	14. Strawberry and mint

**DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO RIGHTS OVER FMA. ZILCH. NADA. DONE.  
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Riza sat on the wooden bench in the Central's park. Hayate lay at her feet, lazily soaking up the afternoon sunshine and pawing at the dangling red leash. She rubbed her hands smoothly against her skirt and anxiously watched the people passing by. Children, couples, families. A strand of brown hair fell into her eyes and she brushed it away with a flicker of annoyance. It had been a shock seeing her blonde hair turn brown. Even Roy hadn't realized how different she looked.

'_At least,' _she thought warily, eyeing a man in a suit hurry past. '_No-one will recognize me.'_

She sighed and stretched her arms, the aches in her shoulders getting brief release. It was nice to get out of the apartment, as comfy and safe as it was. She enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face and the fresh air. She couldn't deny that she had been nervous as they went down the elevator and stepped outside. Fear had swept over her, causing Riza to huddle close to Roy and tighten her grip on Hayate's leash. Roy had placed a comforting arm over her shoulder and whispered in her ear that it would be okay.

And so far, it _had _been okay. Nobody had stopped them in the street, nobody had pointed at her and screamed that she had risen from the dead; nobody had so much as looked in their direction as they calmly made their way to the park, as normal as any other couple in the street. 

"Sorry I took so long." Roy sat down next to her, holding two ice creams. He handed a pink strawberry one to her and kept the mint green for himself.

"It's fine," she eyed the ice cream and shivered despite the little warmth the sun was giving. "Why are we eating ice cream? It's cold enough already."

"Nothing can beat ice cream on an autumn afternoon!" Roy declared and to prove the point he took a huge lick. He was so enthusiastic that some ended up on his nose.

She laughed. "You got it on your nose."

"Did I?" He asked and went cross-eyed trying to see it.

Riza laughed uncontrollably at his ridiculous expression. "You look so stupid!"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

As she shook with laughter at the green nosed clown a drop of her own ice cream fell down and landed on Hayate's nose. He jerked up at the sudden coldness, raising his head curiously to see what it was.

"Hey, buddy, now we match." Roy teased as the dog barked excitedly. "Now," he turned to look evilly at Riza, "all we need to do is get missy here to match too!"

"What! No - Roy!" She grabbed at his hand to try and push the offending mint ice cream away from her face. "I don't want ice-cream on me!" She laughed and screamed at the same time as they wrestled on the park bench. A few people walking past watched with the scene with amusement.

"What's wrong with a little green nose?! It's in fashion!" Roy's eyes gleamed with sudden insanity.

"For you, maybe!"

"Fine." Roy and the threatening ice cream admitted defeated and shuffled over to the other side of the bench. He licked it dejectedly.

She giggled and took a lick of her own ice cream, the sweet taste and coolness filling her mouth.

A finger covered in green suddenly appeared in front of her face and dabbed at her nose.

Riza shrieked in protest as Roy laughed crazily. "Got you that time!"

"Why you-!" She prepared to launch herself at him, but her fits of hysteria proved too much. They laughed together on the bench, a pink nosed Hayate panting at them happily.

She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and wiped her nose clean. "Here," she said, leaning over and wiping Roy's nose as well.

She stopped, realizing how close their faces were. Their eyes met and locked. It was happening again…she couldn't turn away from him, just like earlier. Those dark eyes kept dragging her in deeper and deeper. Her throat closed up, suffocating her. Her heart beat against her chest. That familiar blush crept up her neck. Why did she always seem to be blushing around him? Even though she felt as though she was dying, looking into those eyes, she felt warm and content at the same time. The feeling…it was familiar. It was something she had felt before…a long time ago…

"_Riza…" _An image flashed through her head. Those eyes, that voice, that scent. The feel of warm, strong arms wrapped around her body. The feel of a soft heartbeat in the silent cover of darkness. "_Riza, I-"_

Her ice cream slipped from her grasp and dropped to the ground with a soft squish and the spell was broken.

"Oh!" Roy said in a startled voice, almost as though he was waking up from a deep sleep. "There goes a perfectly good ice-cream! Wait here, I'll get another one." And with that, he ran off leaving Riza staring after him.

'_What-?' _She screamed silently with embarrassment, her face burning beacon red. Her hands flew to hot cheeks in a vain attempt to cover her furious blush. '_What was that?! A memory?! But those eyes, that voice – was it…'_

She stared at the ice-cream vendor. Roy turned and waved to her.

'_Was that _Roy?!_'_

The memory was vivid – it was as true as any of the other memories. No, it definitely wasn't some daydream or fantasy. It was real. It had been real. It was a memory. A memory of her and Roy.

It was as though one key had unlocked a thousand keyholes. Memory after memory came flooding back to her. A secret crush and then one day in a secluded office he had grabbed her waist, dragged her to him…a candlelit dinner in his apartment…at hers as well…the Sunday drives and picnics in the countryside…the quick squeeze of a hand, a hurried embrace, a secret kiss. Long, dark nights, the feel of his skin against hers.

Her head spun. A rush of emotions flooded her body. The thought of Roy set her on fire and made her want to run to him. She ached to feel his arms around her once again and sense the sweet taste of his lips. 

"Riza!" Roy called and jogged back to her, jerking her back to the present. She bolted upright, away from the bench and stepped towards him. "Riza?" He repeated quizzically.

Riza reached up, not caring that people were around them and watching, and pulled his face towards hers.

"Ri-!" Roy said before their lips met.

The ice creams fell to the floor once more, splattering against the gray pavement. His arms hesitated before wrapping around her, pulling her tightly towards him. They breathed in each other's scent, took in each other's warmth, sighed each other's names as they kissed deeper. How they had both longed for this – even Riza felt as though she was finally one part of a whole, sensing that a missing feeling she hadn't noticed was being fulfilled.

They separated and her hands caressed his hair and cheek.

"Roy," she smiled through tear filled eyes. "I remember. I remember us!"

He smiled back at her. "That's great," he choked and hugged her, trying to stop her from noticing that his eyes were also filling with relieved tears. '_Thank God. She's come back to me now.' _"That's just wonderful."

They kissed again in the sunlit park as a shower of autumn leaves rained upon them.


	15. RECAP

**Disclaimer: I am not the original creator of FMA. **

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Okay, so this is just a brief re-cap of the story so far. Those of you who don't care then just go to the next chapter. Those who do, well, here's what has happened:

Following the manga series, Roy Mustang and Riza Hawkeye have been split up due to the interfering King Bradley as their involvement with the Philosophers Stone and the homunculi has raised many suspicions. In order to keep them in their place, Roy and his subordinates have been sent to separate stations and Riza has been made a direct aide to King Bradley (much like a hostage situation).

This fanfiction then deters to a different storyline. A few days after the 'splitting' situation has taken place Roy received a notice informing him that Riza had been murdered. Refusing to believe it, Roy promised himself that he would find her.

And find her, he did! In the old Hawkeye mansion! But little did he realise that Riza had, in fact, lost her memories of how she got there, her childhood, the military…and him! Deciding that she was safer being near to him, he convinced Riza to return to his apartment.

Riza's memories slowly began to return over the next few days, much to their relief as well as their distress - distress for Roy in that he had unwillingly lied about the array on her back which had extremely startled her. Believing that she would be hurt by the truth he chose to tell her that it was a tattoo she had willingly got. Riza appeared to have fallen for Roy's lie and never questioned it again.

It appeared that she was reverting back to her old self until an intervening character – in the shape of Major Alex Louis Armstrong – appeared. Believing that the Colonel's apartment had been broken into (as well as realizing the dangers Roy was in) Armstrong had burst into the apartment only to find a startled Riza and Hayate. The situation was thus quickly explained to Armstrong, including Riza's amnesia.

The following day after Armstrong's surprise visit the two (or three, if you count Hayate) decided to take a trip to the park after making sure that Riza was suitably disguised. While at the park, she commented that her memories were becoming clearer – and ultimately her memories of Roy and Riza as a couple!

And so, the last chapter ended with them both embracing, quite elated that Riza had been able to remember the many moments they had shared……….

**ONTO THE NEXT CHAPTER!**

**A note: OMG!!! Thank you sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo much for all of your reviews and comments!!! I am so eternally grateful (bows lots of times before whacking head on table. Ouch). Thank you all so much!!!**


	16. Better left forgotten

**All disclaimers disclaim my right to FMA. That is the job of a disclaimer. **

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The dawn light slipped slowly into the white room, shining down upon the loving couple as they lay in the large bed. It was as though a God really did exist. Roy smiled down at the sleeping figure of Riza, her blonde hair covering the nape of her neck and spreading like an angel halo over the blue pillow. He gently stroked her hair away from her neck, feeling the smoothness of her skin. The night before clicked into replay and he was thankful that he had been able to experience her warmth again. He was relieved that Riza had finally been able to remember the many moments they had shared together. He hadn't realized that that was the one part of her losing her memories that had scared him the most. They had shared so much together. For Roy to be the only one to remember it all would make those events seem like a distant dream and he desperately didn't want that. He didn't want a simple moment of memories with Riza, a few measly seconds snatched sneakily away in a day; he wanted a lifetime of them.

He leant down and kissed her sweet, thin lips lightly. She tasted like strawberries. As Roy pulled away, Riza's amber eyes flickered open. She squinted slightly in the morning light but smiled in a way that made Roy melt and want to snatch her away from the cruelty of the world once more.

"Good morning." She greeted softly.

"Good morning." He replied, stroking her hair again.

She shivered slightly. "I didn't know it was so cold in this room."

Roy pulled her towards him, feeling the softness of her skin brush against his. "I'll warm you up." He nuzzled his head into her shoulder.

She chuckled but didn't object and sighed happily, "I'm glad that I remembered."

"Yeah." Roy whispered and wondered, "How much _do _you remember?"

She thought hard. "I guess…my childhood, being in the military academy and some days on duty. Our dates. I wish we didn't have to sneak around so much."

He grinned. "Ah, but that's what makes it fun, right? The thrills and joys of wondering when we're going to get caught screw-" 

"Roy," she interrupted him quickly. "I'm serious."

Roy's playful expression dropped and he sighed, the stress and worry showing clearly on his handsome face. "One day," he promised, "when I become Fuhrer we'll be able to stop hiding." He paused before asking, "Do you remember the part about me becoming the Fuhrer?"

"Yes." She replied. "I do. We were standing by my father's grave and I promised you that I would follow you." Her gentle mouth twisted into a deep frown. "But I can't recall when we actually met in the army, after the academy. There's a big jump between graduating and then going to the Eastern HQ. Did something happen?"

He frowned, trying to recall events himself. "Graduating and the Eastern HQ?" He murmured, sifting through the well-settled dust of the past.

After Riza graduated didn't something happen in the East? Wasn't there…

It hit him like a bowling ball well aimed between the eyes. Ishbal. She didn't remember the Ishbalian war. His grip on Riza tightened slightly. He didn't want her to remember Ishbal – if there was any memory he wanted to erase for her then that would be it. It was a terrible, horrific war. What if those memories proved too much? What if they haunted her as they had done so many other soldiers, resulting in them being institutionalized? The idea of Riza going into an institution because she was trying so hard to remember…and possibly because of him pushing her to remember...

"Roy?"

He blinked and suddenly realized that he was gripping her tightly. "Oh," he released her from his tight hug, "sorry."

She watched him curiously. "Roy did…did something bad happen?"

"Bad? No! Nothing bad happened at all," he laughed his uneasiness away but avoided her penetrating gaze. "Yeah, you just worked your way up and when I got transferred and promoted to the East I requested that you come with me as my aide. That's all!"

Her face flatly told him she wasn't falling for it. "That's not it, Roy. I _know _that something bad happened. Some sort of battle…" she frowned and bit her lip, pushing herself to remember.

Fear seized Roy and he in return seized Riza, pulling her close to him again. "Don't try to remember!"

She was surprised by his sudden burst of emotion and stiffened. "What…?"

"I don't want you to remember. You don't have to remember all of those things. Please," he opened his eyes but kept his grip on her, "don't get those memories back. I know it's selfish but I don't want you to remember those horrible things."

Riza sighed and her body relaxed, leaning into him for comfort. She breathed in the husky scent of his aftershave. "I'm not afraid." She said finally. "I want to remember everything, good or bad. I have to remember. Roy," She leaned back and stroked a few stray strands of black hair from eyes. "I have to remember if I'm going to watch your back."

The words were an echo from the past. Despite his disagreement with her decision, and the feeling of wretched guilt that he had driven her to this, he finally conceded defeat. "It's your decision. Whether I agree or not you're still going to try, right?"

She smiled and nodded. "That's right."

He muttered in frustration, displeasure clearly written over his face. "Fine. I'll help you remember the war. We'll remember together, okay?"

"'The war'?" She repeated.

He nodded. His brain was fighting with his heart, screaming that this was completely the wrong decision, that he should prevent her from recalling those events. But what could he do? Perform a lobotomy and cut out the Ishbal war? Ridiculous. There was nothing he could do. She was adamant. It infuriated him, but it also reminded him that her strength and courage was why he loved her so much.

"Don't worry." She kissed him gently, but then deeper, as though she was easing away his concerns.

Roy replied with an equally deep kiss, noting quietly that her presence was indeed comforting. It was like he was handling a million Riza's – she drove him mad with her constant fearlessness and the risks she was willing to take, but he reminded himself that if she weren't so fearless then they wouldn't be lying together in his bed on a beautiful Sunday morning.


	17. Secret searches

**Disclaimer: I regret to inform the public that FMA is not property and I am not the sole creator (sniffs).**

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Roy leaned against the table and nursed a warm cup of coffee, wrapping the porcelain around his cold fingers. He shivered and sipped the liquid, the stale taste burning his tongue. Winter was coming. The grey skies loomed overhead refusing to allow the sun to see the world below. The wind bitterly whispered of approaching long days filled with frost. Looking through the living room window and down upon the street, Roy could see people wrapping their scarves more tightly around their necks, huddling together on street corners to talk as well as gain what little warmth they could from each other. Cars trundling past stirred up the brown, damp leaves.

He drank the coffee again whilst thinking that snow would start falling soon. Maybe he and Riza could build a snowman together. He would have to find that feathery hat and brown scarf to use on it, wherever they were.

As Roy wondered about snowmen and feathery hats a figure dressed in military uniform wandered casually down the street. There was brown package in their arms. He spotted the figure and watched it coolly as the soldier headed towards the building and disappeared from view, apparently entering the building.

'_That was fast.' _Roy thought, slightly impressed, and took another sip while waiting for the inevitable knock on the door.

As he expected, a sharp rap on the door echoed through the apartment. Hayate lifted his head from his comfy bed and barked, mimicking the knock. The cup was placed on the wooden table with slight tap and Roy bent down to pat the dog gently. Calmly he made his way to the front door, gripped the cool metal and turned the handle.

As the door slid open quietly Roy murmured, "Good morning, Major."

Armstrong towered over him, the brown package clutched protectively in one arm as the other saluted him. "Good morning, sir." He looked down at the Colonel with cool blue eyes. "You saw me coming?"

"I was just gazing out the window. Please come in."

"Thank you." The Major stepped inside and the door was securely shut. The two men went into the living room.

"Major Armstrong?" Riza opened the bedroom door slightly and poked her head through. Her hair was ruffled from the pillows and she blinked blearily with sleep filled eyes.

The Major saluted her. "Good morning, Lieutenant Hawkeye."

She cautiously raised her own arm to return the salute. "G-Good morning, Major." She said nervously and then promptly apologized. "I'm trying to get back into the military ways." 

Armstrong smiled brightly. "It will be good to have you back, but please, do not hurry yourself."

Roy watched the exchange quietly. "I hope," he said finally. "We didn't trouble you too much, Major."

"Not at all, friends!" He exclaimed loudly and handed the parcel to Roy. He placed a heavy hand on both of their shoulders and twinkled brilliantly. "It's so inspiring to see you face these things together!" 

Roy and Riza stared at him. There was something quite discomforting about seeing Armstrong smile so brightly.

"My links to the investigation department have come in handy." The Major continued proudly, referring to the days when he used to be in the investigation department. He wiped away the streams of sparkling tears from his face with a lacy white handkerchief. "A few people owed me some favors. I convinced them not to mention my request as well, so rest assured, Colonel, Lieutenant, nothing will get in the way of your task."

Riza finally managed a simple nod. "Thank you very much, Major." 

"It's no problem, Lieutenant! Now, if you'll please excuse me," he saluted them. "I must get back to the headquarters before they suspect something. I'll see myself out."

Roy and Riza returned the salute and Armstrong left the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him.

"He managed to get them so quickly." Riza voiced the thought that Roy had had earlier.

"He has his ways of making people…convinced." He shuddered at the memory of the flexing muscles, the gleaming blue eyes as the Major dared his victim to disagree with what his muscles 'felt'. That was usually how he got the information he wanted and Roy mentally apologized to the people who had had to face that so early in the morning.

Riza lifted the heavy package from Roy's arms and sat down on the sofa. She reached inside and pulled out a large blue book. "The idea of all those people crawling through my apartment…" she shuddered. "Wasn't it going to extreme lengths? They had already found the 'murderer'." 

"But they had to find a motive," Roy sighed and sat next to her. "As well as possible evidence. It seems they found some though," he muttered bitterly.

Following Riza's death, her apartment was quickly swept over by the investigation department in order to find links to the murderer – or, as Roy suspected, find damaging evidence against him. Luckily, they never found any discerning evidence against the Colonel but in order to do a thorough job they had taken any item associated to the military which included her uniform, her guns, any documents and, finally, the photo album which Riza now rightfully had in her hands.

The search had apparently been top secret. Roy had only realized what had happened when he had gone to get some of Riza's clothes following their reunion – he had noticed that the photo album was missing from a ransacked bookcase, her uniform absent from a messy closet and the collection of guns she kept underneath her bed. The major tip was how messy and disjointed the apartment appeared. Riza was a neat person by nature.

When Riza had said that she wanted to remember the events at Ishbal, the photo album immediately sprang to his mind. Knowing that Armstrong would be more likely to get the album then he was, as well as rouse suspicions than he could afford in the process, Roy had phoned the Major and asked for the favor. Armstrong had been quick to oblige and, eager to help, explained to Roy's subordinates that he had fallen ill after eating a badly cooked takeaway the previous night before.

Armstrong's tale was quickly accepted and nobody suspected anything. The investigation department assumed that the Major wanted to keep the photos in remembrance of the Lieutenant; the subordinates thought that the Colonel had bad luck when it came to undercooked takeaways – it was becoming a regular occurrence. But, to them, it was nothing unusual.

Riza stroked the binding of the blue book and took a deep breath. She gripped Roy's hand, preparing herself before the dive into the depths of her memories. She smiled at Roy, partly nervously and partly for the comfort of seeing his face, "Ready?"

He nodded and squeezed her hand. "Ready." 

She opened the book.


	18. Pain of the past

**Disclaimer. As usual it states that I am not the genius behind FMA. There is a brief quote from the manga. **

**Note: I seem to have gotten into the habit of doing double updates (laughs). **

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As Riza turned the pages of the neatly organized book, she pointed a trembling finger and whispered the names of the soldiers.

"Winters, Jenkins, Richardson, Ribas." The faces of the past stared up at her, their eyes hollow and their faces like starving, desperate skulls. "Apart from Jenkins they all died after an attack on escorting a General to his camp. The General - was it Thomas? He survived but died in hospital a few days later."

Her hand trembled violently as she turned the page again. Roy watched her worriedly before asking, "Maybe we should take a break. We've been at this for two hours." They hadn't moved from the sofa all morning. He knew he was going to get bad pins and needles when he started walking again – a prospect that didn't seem very inviting.

"No!" Riza replied sharply. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand tiredly. She felt hot and sweaty but put it down to stress. "I want to keep on going." She took a deep breath and turned her eyes to the next photograph. Her, Roy and Hughes looked back at her, unsmiling. There had been nothing to smile about then. They were days filled with blood and death; everyone was certain that they would be next to die. All of their energies were focused on surviving. It would have been a waste of time to smile.

As she reflected on the old feelings of desperation a sudden smell of gunpowder filled the room. Riza's heartbeat quickened, suddenly thinking that a gun had been fired. But a quick glance around the room proved that there was no gun, no bullet hole in a wall, no shattered glass window. She rubbed her pounding head. She must be going crazy. Perhaps she should take a break like Roy suggested.

An invisible force disagreed with the idea, pushing her to continue, to recall and to remember every minute detail. The images of blood staining the yellow buildings in Ishbal struck her with such force she could have sworn she had been transported back in time to live that moment again. As she gazed at photo after photo the voices, the conversations, the screams of the past seemed to ricochet off the walls and drum into her ears. The feeling of the cool trigger on her finger, the steady gaze as she watched Roy unwaveringly, determined to protect him from any attacker, the soft rustle of the fabric covering her camouflaged head all came back to her.

'_I like guns because you don't have to feel your victim die.'_

The clarity of the voice made it feel as though she was saying it herself out loud. She gasped slightly and her hand paused in its task of turning pages.

"Riza?" Roy's voice was distant, a dream away. She struggled to answer him, to tell him that she was all right, but the words were lodged in her throat. Her breathing quickened and gulped down air as though she couldn't get enough. Her head pounded painfully like a relentless hammer hitting a nail that refused to go into a block of rotten wood. The insistent pain made her eyes lose focus; white spots fizzled in front of her eyes. The present and past muddled together. A screaming voice repeated endlessly, '_Remember! Remember! You have to remember!'_

"Riza!" Roy's arms gripped her trembling body as she let out an involuntary moan. Her dazed eyes locked onto his face. Or tried too – he kept slipping out of focus. A muddled mess obscured her gaze. '_Is that Roy…or something else?'_

Her vision slipped into focus once more, but the person who stood in front of her wasn't Roy. She wasn't even in his apartment. She knelt on the ground, a sniper by her side. Her toes itched against her hot, sweaty boots. Her uniform scratched against her skin, her pockets were filled with never-ending sand. The air was stiflingly hot causing her to gasp for air and her throat turn coarse and dry. The unforgiving sun blared down upon her making the buildings glow so brightly it hurt to look.

But look she did. Up at an Ishbalian who was watching her with a terrified expression in his red eyes, his dark skin gleaming with sweat, his hands gripping a gun.

"Please," Riza choked out. She had lost the will to fight this battle – what was the point in all of this death and suffering? There was no end to it. The Fuhrer had promised that the war would end in a matter of weeks – a simple suppression of an uprising rebellion. But as more and more soldiers were called to the line of duty, it had slowly dawned on everyone that this simple suppression had turned to an all-out war lasting several months.

"Please," she said again to the terrified Ishbalian. "Please lower your weapon. I don't want to hurt you."

The Ishbalian boy, who couldn't have been much older than a child, moaned incoherently. He trembled violently as another war took place inside of his own heart. Something inside of him snapped and he screamed with terror as he saw Death in the eyes of the kneeling Riza and pointed his gun at her.

She could only plead reflex. The gun had jumped into her hand as though it had a will of its own. It hadn't even fully registered with her what was happening, but as soon as the trigger was pulled and she saw a spurt of blood that wasn't her own she knew that the boy was dead.

She knelt in the sand and cried regretful tears as the child's blood spread from his broken body and turned the golden sand ruby red.

As Riza was haunted by the act of her first kill, Roy called desperately to her. He watched in horror as her eyes slid shut.

"Riza! Wake up!" He shook her gently as her body went limp in his arms. "Riza!"

She moaned breathlessly against his chest. He lifted her chin gently and was startled by the blazing heat of her face. He placed a cold hand against her sweaty, scalding forehead.

"A temperature." He brushed her hair back from her face anxiously. "She's burning up."

A cold? The flu? Whatever it was, she was ill. The stress of the last few days had added up, resulting in her falling prone to a common fever. She had pushed herself too hard and had worked her brain, and ultimately her body, to the limit. He picked her up carefully, noting how fast her heart was beating, and kicked the door to the bedroom open. He laid her down gently on the bed.

"Roy…Kimbly…" She murmured in a terrified voice as Roy drew the covers over her. He stroked her hair again with a shaking hand and felt the burning sensation of her skin on his fingertips.

'_Riza, what are you remembering?' _He wondered as he saw her clutch the sheets in pain. '_What can I do to make you feel better? Dammit! If only I had never asked how much you remembered, if only I had never mentioned Ishbal, if only I never phoned Armstrong, if only I had never thought of the photo album…'_

So many 'if onlys'. The guilt wrenched him apart and the thought of her falling ill due to his own stupidity made him want to cry in regret. But the damage was done. There was nothing more he could do. It was impossible for him to physically reach into the depths of Riza's mind and pull her away from the tormenting ghosts. The only thing he could do was stay by her side and pray that her fever would pass.

He hoped that she would be okay after reliving those horrors for the second time in her life.


	19. Those three words

**Disclaimer - FMA IS NOT MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! **

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As the hours drew on, the haunting faces slowly left Riza's mind. Their job was done; they had returned the memories to her. Now they could go back and sleep peacefully before being called upon once more.

Riza was grateful that they left her alone. She had clung desperately to them when she felt that there was more to tell - she had sought feverishly for answers to the questions which filled her mind. She soaked up the facts like a wet sponge, draining in the voices, smells, touches and emotions as though she couldn't gain enough of them. Her dreams were filled with forgotten faces, buildings that before drew a blank, the scents which had made her puzzled. The 'in-betweens' slid into the moments that jumped from one to another, dissolving the discomforting notion that she was blankly missing something.

She had felt arms around her, moving her from one place to another. She could hear Roy's comforting voice faintly, reminding her that he would be there, that she would be okay. The thought of him made her heart fill close to bursting. The image of his face renewed the strength within her to continue trailing through the past in a dreamlike state.

She remembered the moments she had previously recalled; the times during her childhood and the military. She remembered the old and the new. The park on the Saturday afternoon, the surprise of Roy finding her in the neglected Hawkeye mansion. The voice of her father. The scalding, blinding pain as Roy scarred the array on her back with his flames so that her father's alchemy could not be used for evil. She remembered the scene in the shower and Roy's pained expression as he said that she must have liked the design at the time in order to have had it done – she instantly knew that it was lie. Anger at his deception bubbled inside her, but it soon simmered and cooled as the regret on Roy's face showed. She knew, at that moment, that he had been lying to protect her. Although she would have preferred to have known the truth, she also knew that she could not hate him. She would have done the same for him.

'_Were you special to me?' _She watched through the hot steam of the bathroom as her figure stood before her, asking Roy the question once more. She felt as though she were a spirit, observing from the land of the dead the deeds of the living. It was ironic that she had been announced dead – she certainly felt like a wandering, hopeless soul.

'_Yeah. Maybe. I don't know. You're special to me but…' _The image of Roy trailed off and visibly shook his head through the mist. He turned away, but not before the ghostly Riza saw the flash of guilt in his dark eyes.

'_But what?'_ She wondered dreamily as the images faded. '_But what, Roy?'_

She waited for the next apparition to appear, but it didn't. The sound of her heartbeat drummed in her ears and she opened her eyes gently.

The sound of snoring brought her fully to life. She turned her head slightly and a wet flannel slid from her forehead down to her eyes. Wincing at the dampness, she lifted it to see who was snoring beside her.

Roy, slumped on a chair besides the bed and leaning his face on the covers next to her, grunted softly in his dreams and murmured slightly.

'_Have I been asleep all night?' _She shifted slightly to sit upright and wiped her damp forehead with her sleeve. She spotted a bottle of medicine on the side table and the bowl of cold water. She was still wearing yesterday's clothes. She remembered the feeling of movement and immediately realized that it had been Roy. She must have fallen ill if there was medicine and a damp flannel on her head. Roy had obviously nursed her through the night and she felt hugely grateful for his comforting presence.

Her small movements jerked Roy awake. "Riza! You're awake!" He cried and jumped on her, ultimately pinning her down on the bed. She let out a small yelp in surprise but that didn't deter him. "Are you all right? Do you feel better?" He bombarded her with questions.

"I feel fine." She told him in a muffled voice.

He pulled away and glared down at her. "You sure?"

"Yes!" She smiled warily. "I feel as though I've run through the entire course of my life in a matter of hours. It's really…disorientating."

Her words made his body grow tense. "So…" he hesitated. "Do you remember…"

She grinned up at him. "It seems," she paused for dramatic effect. "That my memory has returned."

His face broke into a laughing grin; he showered her with kisses and hugged her again. His enthusiasm resulted in them falling off the bed with a loud _thunk _with the bed sheets tangling around them. They laughed and embraced, elated at the success of the photo album. Hayate ran into the room and barked loudly, demanding to be let in on the celebrations. He was answered by enthusiastic pats and his tail wagged furiously as he tangled himself into the sheets to join in with the fun and games.

Roy kissed her again and whispered tenderly. "I love you, Riza Hawkeye."

She blushed pink at the words but smiled softly. Her hand rose and rested on his cheek gently. "I love you, too."

Roy stared at her in utter shock. "W-w-w-w-w-what?!" He exclaimed.

She blinked in confusion. "I love you."

His face turned an interesting tomato colour. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," she frowned at his reaction. "Haven't I-!" She stopped, the explanation making itself known. "Oh, right. I've never said it before."

He grinned. "But now you've said it. And made me the happiest man in the world!" He leaned in to kiss her enthusiastically but she stopped him with a finger.

"Roy," she began seriously, "when we were in the bathroom and I was startled by the array," he blanched at the remembrance of his lie but she continued. "Why did you say I was special to you, 'but…'?"

Roy's forehead creased in concentration as he tried to recall that day. "'But you never told me if I was special to you.'" He finally finished the sentence. "But now you have."

He tilted her head to kiss her, but she stopped him again.

"And you lied about the array, too." She accused him, punching him playfully on the arm. Her attempt at a scowl was ruined by a slight smile.

He cringed and laughed nervously. He rubbed the back of his head anxiously. "O-Oh, yeah. You remember that too, huh?" He laughed uncomfortably under her fiery gaze.

She chuckled. "I forgive you."

"That's goo-" his words were cut off as she finally kissed him and the taste of her strawberry lips filled his mouth.

Hayate poked out a wet nose and barked at Roy. Covering the pale sheets over the dog's head, he muttered, "Shut up, Hayate," before clutching Riza's back and drawing her to him once more.


	20. Winter snow

**Disclaimer: Ahhhh see the last 19 chapters. **

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Riza's determination to return to the military had not been deterred by the regaining of her memories. In fact, to Roy it seemed as though her resolve had only strengthened. He had supported her decision (albeit a little hesitantly) and had accompanied her to Fuhrer Bradley's office where she was welcomed by gawping mouths but open arms.

The truth of the incident was never disclosed. The plan for Riza's surprise return was carefully arranged with Major Armstrong. In order to support her claim that she had fled to the countryside to nurse an ailing aunt, Riza had written a quick letter to her co-workers which Armstrong appropriately planted into a wastepaper basket during one of his short visits there. The letter was never found, as was planned, and her colleagues were branded as careless and slatternly in their work. Riza had supposedly returned to Central on the date noted on the letter. However, she had quickly discovered that it was thought she was dead and her military uniform, as well as some of her possessions, were missing from apartment. She approached Roy, who was in his apartment at the time, and they had immediately made their way to the Central HQ in order to clear up the mess.

The official story published by the military itself was that there had been some mix-up at the forensic department. The body had been wrongly labeled and so led to the ultimate decision that Riza Hawkeye was dead. After a full, military-personnel attended meeting Fuhrer Bradley proudly announced that the missing First Lieutenant was back amongst them.

A number of people had been fired in the process, and the guilt Roy felt led him to take note of their names and mentally promise that he would restore those peoples honor when he became Fuhrer.

Roy reminded himself of that promise as he drove carefully down the road in his fully restored car. The winter season had brought its usual gift of ice, making the road a death trap to careless drivers. He gripped the wheel tightly to keep the car in control as the familiar buildings flickered past him. The darkening sky was threatening snow but Roy welcomed it. It would provide the perfect backdrop for the evening ahead.

After Riza had been established back into the military, she once again resumed her post as the Fuhrer's personal assistant. The idea had made Roy want to challenge the two-faced (or two eyed) homunculi to a duel right there and then to determine where Riza would be positioned, but he withheld the outburst knowing that if he did protest it would only make matters worse. It was very unlikely that the homunculi would 'eradicate' Riza again in a hurry. Although there would always be an element of danger while she was within the Fuhrer's grasp, if she was suddenly killed again it would only raise suspicions about what was going on within the military and whether someone was truly bent on murdering First Lieutenant Hawkeye.

The only mystery left unanswered was what _had _really happened on that fateful night Riza had disappeared. However hard she tried, Riza could never recall what had happened. They had both decided that, since the homunculi were connected in some way to an alchemist, her memories of the occurrence had been purposefully erased. But if that were the case, wouldn't the alchemist have erased all of her memories? The full answer was never completely solved, and a disturbing voice inside of Roy uttered that it may never be solved.

Roy finally reached his destination. Braking the car and turning off the front headlights so that he was now swamped in darkness, he stepped out of the car and closed the door softly with a kick of his heel. A large bottle of red wine and a bouquet of flowers filled his arms as he walked up the frost bitten steps to the house, sought out that one open window and slipped inside.

He shivered and muttered, "Cold out there." The dusty carpet muffled his footsteps and his shoes left wet imprints of ice and mud as he headed towards the room where he was expected to be.

A table in the center of the room had been wiped clear of the dust. Two golden candles gleamed serenely in the rapidly growing darkness. Glistening white plates and elegant cutlery stood on the beaming table.He stepped inside and quietly set down the wine bottle. He approached the lone figure by the window and presented the flowers in front of her. She started in surprise.

"Happy anniversary." Roy whispered and kissed Riza's neck lovingly.

"They're beautiful," she commented with slight awe. "Although can it really be called an anniversary?"

Roy buried hs face in her soft, lilac scented hair and wrapped his arms around her, "I found you in this house, in this room, two months ago to this day. Isn't that counted as an anniversary?"

She smiled the smile that always melted his heart and fingered the gentle petals of the flowers. "I still wish we didn't have to sneak around like this." Due to their current position and still being kept in careful check by Bradley, the two lovers had arranged to meet secretly once a month in the secluded Hawkeye house.

"Not for much longer." He promised her again and turned her around to face him. "With you watching my back, I'll be Fuhrer in no time!" He laughed heartily, assuming a triumphant stance.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "It may be wise to not make such rash statements, sir."

He rose an eyebrow at her. "'Sir'? 'Sir'? What's with the 'sir', Lieutenant?"

"What's with the 'Lieutenant'?" She retorted and went to the table to lay down the flowers. She pointed at a basket by the side. "I made dinner this time, as promised."

He grinned and went to her with an eager, hungry expression on his face. "I want to satisfy a different kind of hunger tonight, Riza."

Despite her frustrated sigh she couldn't prevent a slow smile crossing her face. "Roy…"

The room filled with the sound of rustling clothing and lustful sighs as the first few snowflakes fell down to the ground on the cold winter night.

**END **

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**I can't believe this is the end of the fanfic!!! Thank you so much to all of those who reviewed and encouraged me to keep on going! **


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